


Capture The Flag

by wordsareleftbehind (froggydarren)



Series: In Another Life [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/wordsareleftbehind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For CrisscolferAUWednesdays<br/>Week #1: theme - social media</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capture The Flag

Darren cursed yet again into his headset as he waited to see where on the map he'd re-spawn. Joey shot him an apologetic glance from the computer on the neighboring desk and then immediately focused his eyes on the screen again, fingers rigid over the mouse and keyboard. They were in the middle of an online _Quake_ Capture-the-Flag game and losing spectacularly.

"Why were you not covering me?" Darren continued grumbling, "We're not even against a big team this shouldn't be so hard!"

"Sorry man, I lost the shotgun in the last re-spawn…"

"…which was entirely your fault…"

"… and it's gone now…" Joey finished with a sigh, eyes trained on the darkness in front of him, "And yes, thank you, I'm aware."

Darren's eyes were about to roll when he noticed the chat line that appeared on top of his screen, his username at the start.

_/tell_target : You guys know I have a headset too and I can hear you, right?_

Darren realized Joey wouldn't see the chat line because the chat command was only visible to the last person who was shot down by the sender. He was intrigued, because this guy… _no, person_ , he corrected himself knowing quite a few girls who kicked ass at _Quake_ … not only had time to type a message but didn't choose the option to just say it into the headset. So he decided to reply the same way, knowing there was only one person against both him and Joey.

_/tell_attacker: You could've just said that out loud._

_/tell_target : Loses a bit of the mystery. Maybe you're getting your asses kicked by a girl._

Darren chuckled and Joey shot him a surprised look, still unaware of the chat going on in the background.

_/tell_attacker: Wouldn't be a first._

_/tell_attacker: For the record, you're better than anyone else we've played against._

Darren tried to keep his focus on the screen in front of him so he could find either the flag or at least Joey and finally get some points in the game.

_/say_team Where the fuck are you?_

"Why are you…?" Joey started but Darren shot him a glare that made it clear he intended to stick to the chat.

While Joey clumsily typed his response, trying to narrow down his position a little more, Darren's eyes jumped between the happenings in the arena and the chat lines on top of the screen.

_/tell_target: I'm flattered. And you're dead. Again._

With that Darren saw the re-spawn screen again and groaned into the headset, earning himself a chuckle that crackled in his headphones.

"Dude, this wasn't my fault," Joey protested, "but… shit, the rocket launcher is gone."

_/tell_target: So it is. How do you think you got killed?_

_/tell_attacker: Can I say now that you're blowing me away?_

_/tell_target: Are you… flirting? How'd you know I'm a girl?_

_/tell_attacker: I don't. Does it matter?_

"Dee, what the hell are you doing? Chatting the enemy up or something?" Joey grumbled as he jumped out of a grenade's way on screen.

The laughter sounded through the headphones again just as the sound to signal the end of the game and the groan from Joey expressed his frustration at their loss.

_/say: You guys up for another round?_

Darren looked over to Joey who was already pulling his headphones off and disconnecting with a shrug.

_/say: I am, my not-so-useful teammate has food priorities._

_/say: How about a one-on-one then? CTF is less fun with just two people._

_/say: Sure. One condition. You talk so I can hear you._

A moment of silence made Darren wonder if he would see a disconnection message, but instead, the sound of a sigh came through the headset.

"Fine. I'll talk. When I'm not too busy wiping you off the map."

Darren saw his smile reflect on the PC screen and fist-bumped.

"So, hi, I'm Darren, I'm studying at University of Michigan and apparently like getting my ass kicked at _Quake_."

"What is this, match.com?"

"Dude, I want to know who's killing me at least," Darren protested as he was setting up the tournament.

"You know, if I were a girl, I'd be offended by your use of 'dude'," the comment was accompanied by a laugh.

"But you're not?"

"Does it matter?"

Darren couldn't help but laugh at that, called out on his own words, "No, totally doesn't matter. So, am I going to hear a name?"

"Chris," the response came after a moment quietly, "I'm in California and about to graduate high school. So you're getting your ass kicked by a girly-sounding kid."

"Oh hey, I'm from San Fran originally!" Darren exclaimed, "Are you anywhere close? We could game over the summer when the semester is over. And you do _not_ sound like a girl."

"So the age…" Chris' hesitation was clear in his tone.

"Bothers me about as much as that you're a dude and I hit on you pretty clearly," Darren interrupted, "There might be more of that, by the way, I like a person who can handle their rocket launcher."

"Now if that's not an innuendo, I don't know what is," Chris laughed and Darren realized just how much he was already liking the sound, "Sadly, that's what's about to shred you into pieces."

" _Fuck_ ," Darren cursed as he indeed saw the re-spawn screen again, "Dude!"

"Get used to that," Chris deadpanned, "You'll be seeing a lot of that screen tonight."

Darren groaned and waited to get back into the game so he could try and save face at least a little bit. As the tournament went on, though, he quickly realized that there was no way he could keep up with Chris' skill. Somehow, losing soon didn't seem to be such a bad thing to him, though.

 


End file.
